Crash And Burn
by jansonpls
Summary: Wes is trying to pick up girls in a bar, Hobbie says he'll crash and burn. Well?


**Title:** Crash And Burn   
**Author:** djcati   
**Fandom:** Star Wars Rogue Squadron (post-Solo Command)   
**Characters:** Wes, Hobbie, Ashlea Mironi (OC)   
**Rating:** PG   
**Notes:** Written for the **brown Wes Janson mood challenge** (flirty!Wes) on TFN, though it is extremely late. ; It's Wes's PoV for once. :O Vaguely. 

----- 

"So, what's a hot girl like you doing in a bar like this?" 

_SMACK!_

There was a silent pause as the indignant woman stalked away from the bar, then: 

"If I were you, I'd give up the 'I'm an insensitive jerk' approach. It doesn't seem to be working." 

Wes Janson threw an irritated glare at the man beside him, but Hobbie Klivian just stared back at him, amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth. 

"Hmph," Wes began, turning back to his drink on the bar counter, "I don't see _you_ with any girls." 

"I'm not trying to get any," he answered. 

"Then _why_ are you here" Wes couldn't believe someone would come to a bar and _not_ try to get a date. Why? Unless you already had a partner, of course. But the closest Hobbie had to a partner was Wes, and _partner_ was always followed by _in crime_. 

"To watch you crash and burn," Hobbie explained smugly. 

"Like I _would_." 

"I believe you just _did_." 

"Hey, look," Wes said suddenly, ignoring Hobbie's reply and pointing over at a table in the corner of the room. It was occupied by a single female, a dark-haired woman in her mid-twenties, staring morosely into her drink. "Her," he decided. "Let's go for her." 

"Heh, you're on you own there, Wes. Good luck," Hobbie added in a mocking tone as Wes slammed his drink back down on the bar and stood up. 

"Won't need it," he shot back, walking over to the table -- and the woman -- in the corner. He rested a hand on the back of an empty chair and flashed his most charming grin at the woman. "This seat taken?" he asked in a polite voice. 

"Oh-" The woman looked up at him with wide brown eyes, startled. She glanced back in the direction Wes had come from and frowned thoughtfully. "-no," she finished, waving a hand vaguely at the seat. "Feel free to sit down." 

Well, so far, so good, thought Wes. He grinned again as he sat down and studied the woman close-up for a moment. She was pretty, in an unassuming way -- dark hair, tied back out of her face, light brown eyes -- not as obviously hot as the previous woman. But her morose attitude was intriguing -- he could take this opportunity to cheer her up. And, hey -- maybe get himself a date in return! 

He glanced at her almost-empty glass and grinned lopsidedly. "You want another drink?" 

"Hmm? No, thanks," she answered, glancing up at him. "I've probably had enough for one night." 

"Oh?" _Interesting_. "Any particular reason you're out drinking? Alone," he added. 

"Nah, just...eh, jerks at work." She sighed and glanced down at the table again, then smiled reassuringly. "Nothing really worth bothering about..." 

Wes got the feeling she didn't want to talk about it and decided not to press the issue. _For once,_ his inner voice added, rolling its eyes. "So," he started, leaning forward a little, "what's your name?" Best to be direct, he figured. It was one approach he hadn't tried this evening. 

The woman half-smiled at the table, then looked up and met Wes's gaze. "Ashlea Mironi," she told him, the half-smile still on her lips. "And yours?" 

"Wes Janson," he said with a rueful grin. "Maybe you've heard of me." 

Ashlea seemed to think about it for a moment. "Hmm...Are you the pilot with the Ewok swimsuit?" 

Wes's face fell. "What?" 

Ashlea grinned. "My older sister was on the _Mon Remonda_." 

"And how does she know that? ...Not that it's true." 

Ashlea continued to grin, and Wes realised this discomfort was probably what everyone around him felt when _he_ grinned like that. "I think it's cute," she said, her grin not reassuring Wes of this sentiment. 

"But entirely untrue." 

"If you say so," Ashlea replied, her grin turning into a definite smirk. 

Hmm. Wes wasn't sure what to think now -- he was used to girls either fawning over him or rejecting him out-right. This downright _flirting_ with him was new. Unless you counted Shalla's teasing as flirting. 

"So, what's a famous fighter pilot like you doing in a bar like this?" 

She _was_ flirting with him! He grinned. "Best place to go around unrecognised," he explained, "lower-level Coruscant. Hobbie and I come here all the time -- people either don't know us or don't care." 

Ashlea nodded thoughtfully, and her eyes flickered back to the bar briefly. "Hobbie would be your friend over there, huh?" 

Wes followed her gaze and smirked -- Hobbie was staring mournfully into his drink as the Bothan beside him tried to explain something. "Yeah, that's him. Doesn't seem to be having any luck with the ladies tonight." _Or the ladies with him,_ he thought, smirking as he realised the Bothan was female. 

Ashlea made a non-comittal noise, then said, "You should introduce us. Rescue him from that woman." 

Wes glanced back and grinned again -- Hobbie had put his head down on the bar, trying to pretend to the Bothan that he was drunk and asleep. It wasn't working. "Why not?" he mused, standing up. He smiled at Ashlea, nodding. "Excuse me a second." 

Hobbie lifted his head as Wes approached and smirked, glad of an excuse to ignore the bar patron beside him. "Rejected already?" 

"Nope," Wes said cheerfully, pulling Hobbie by the shoulder to his feet. "I'm introducing you to her -- you get to see me score close-up." 

"I get to see you crash and burn close-up," Hobbie corrected. He managed to sound as irritating as Wes knew he himself could be as they walked over to Ashlea's table. "Great!" 

Wes just smiled at him and waved him into a spare seat, sitting back down in his own. "Hobs, meet Ashlea Mironi," he said, waving a hand between the two. "Ashlea, this is Hobbie, my wingmate." 

Ashlea smiled and held out a hand to shake Hobbie's. "Nice to meet you," she told him, glancing briefly back at Wes before turning her full attention to the blond pilot. "So, you come here often?" 

Wait a second. Was she-? 

"Oh, sometimes," Hobbie answered, leaning forward over the table. "Usually just with Wes here." 

"Prefer establishments where you can see the floor?" 

"Heh, yep, pretty much." 

Wes was starting to feel a little left out of the conversation. Before he could interrupt, though, Ashlea spoke up with the kind of question he was normally all for -- when it wasn't directed at Hobbie. 

"Up for checking out a better class of bar with me tomorrow evening?" 

Hobbie blinked, then glanced sideways at Wes, smirking dangerously. "Sure," he told Ashlea, nodding. "Sounds like a great idea." 

_You have **got** to be kidding me._

"Great!" Ashlea smiled widely, then glanced at her chrono and winced. She stood and nodded to the two pilots. "I've got to go -- meet me here at seven tomorrow evening, Hobbie?" 

"Will do," he confirmed, waving as Ashlea left. Then he looked at Wes. 

There was a pause before Wes groaned, laying his head on the table in front of him. "Don't even say it," he warned Hobbie. 

Hobbie smirked and patted Wes on the head, faking a sympathetic sigh. "I told you so," he said, shaking his head. "I _knew_ you'd crash and burn." 


End file.
